


Steak In-Between

by Keiko Kirin (sakana17)



Series: Steak [5]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-03-06
Updated: 2001-03-06
Packaged: 2017-10-03 03:44:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakana17/pseuds/Keiko%20Kirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one with the blue stones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steak In-Between

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to L for plot ideas, beta-reading and lots of help; thanks to Manda for food for thought.

Jack wandered down the hallway. The place was familiar, but no place he could put a name to. The light was gloomy, dusty. He kept walking, cautious and curious, and stepped through an open doorway into a room he could almost recognize.

Daniel was there. Standing in the center of the room, dressed in fatigues, holding an open book in one hand. "Oh, Jack. There you are," he said.

Jack looked around again. "Where am I?" he asked.

Daniel was turning pages and frowning at the text. He didn't answer. Jack went further into the room, studying the bare walls, wondering why they looked so familiar. "Where am I?" he asked again.

He turned around just as Daniel started walking away. "Daniel? Where am I?"

Daniel left the room. Jack stood in the center. He looked down. He was naked. He looked at the walls. This room--

A shrill, insistent beeping tore into his consciousness. Jack banged on the alarm clock. He kept his eyes closed for a moment, letting his dream melt away. Now, awake, he knew that room and that place very well. A place he'd lived in as a kid, a place he hadn't thought about in decades.

He opened his eyes. How unfair was this? Daniel got dreams of fucking Jack. Jack got dreams of wandering around naked and having Daniel walk away from him. So unfair.

\-----

Realistically, there was no way anyone else could know that Daniel had _touched_ Jack. Touched? Daniel thought it over and decided that "touched," while somewhat euphemistic, was the right word. "Had sex with" was too raunchy. "Gave a hand job to" sounded too fifteen-year-old boy in the back row of a movie theater. "Slept with" didn't appropriately convey the physical aspect, and the physical aspect had been... wow. Good. Very good.

He was thinking about touching Jack, he was remembering touching Jack, he was remembering, with a cruel sensory accuracy, Jack touching him. And this was wrong. This was not the time or place to be having these thoughts.

Daniel tapped his pencil on the desk, glanced at his watch, and stared at the spines of the books in the bookcase across the room for a while. He scowled. Distraction. Not good. No one could possibly know, but if he continued losing his train of thought because he was thinking about the warm, calloused, firm touch of Jack's fingers on his skin, gliding over his skin, so careful, so strong... Oh, damn. This was not good.

Daniel sat back, set his pencil down carefully, and closed his eyes. He took a breath and tried to clear his mind, rid it of all thoughts. All Jack-related thoughts. He formed a mental image of one of the gate symbols, kept it as his foremost thought, and tentatively started gathering thoughts around it: the symbol's resemblence to a constellation of stars, a myth involving that constellation, a planet whose address contained the symbol, the sarcastic remark Jack had said the minute they arrived on that planet-- Halt. Stop. Back up one thought, erase the Jack thought, there... This could work.

"Daniel?"

Daniel took a deep breath and blinked his eyes open. Sam watched him closely. This was the second time in a week he hadn't shown up for their lunch date and she had found him in his office, apparently sleeping. Worry nagged her, and she reviewed the past few weeks again, searching for any possible contagions or previously undetected dangers. Or maybe it was just stress.

Daniel stared at her for a moment, then glanced away quickly, looking guilty. So, he had forgotten about lunch. Again. Sam smiled gently at him, trying to be reassuring.

"We don't have to have lunch today," she said. "If you're working on something--"

"No, no," Daniel said, closing a notebook and rearranging some papers. He stood up, gave her a brief, false smile that triggered all of Sam's inner alarm bells, and gestured at the doorway. "Let's eat."

As they walked down the corridor, Sam stole a glance at him and asked, "Are you feeling all right?"

"Yes. Fine," he answered a little too readily. Sam frowned and went back to reviewing the past few weeks in the life of SG-1. She also made a mental note to ask Janet -- casually, without prying -- if she'd noticed anything unusual about Daniel lately. Although pegging the unusual in Daniel's case wasn't always easy, Sam reflected.

They entered the commissary and Sam spotted Colonel O'Neill sitting alone at one of the tables. He had his chin propped on one fist and was toying with an empty coffee cup.

"There's Colonel O'Neill. Let's go join him," she said, turning to Daniel, who had stopped in the entrance.

Daniel furrowed his brow and blinked rapidly. "Um... no. If you don't mind, I think I'll-- I just thought of something I should do. Get done. I..." He stopped mid-sentence, teeth locked as if holding back the next word, and pointed back at the corridor. "I'll just go," he said slowly, nodded his head, and left before she could respond.

Sam watched his retreat for a moment, then looked back at the colonel, who was still sitting alone, engrossed in his coffee cup. She frowned and went over to the counter. Daniel and Colonel O'Neill weren't arguing again, were they? Over P9A-933? But that didn't seem right, she decided as she picked up a bowl of soup and set it on her tray. Daniel rarely avoided the colonel when they were arguing.

She took her tray over to O'Neill's table and sat down opposite. "All right if I join you, sir?"

Colonel O'Neill looked up. "Yeah. Sure." He set down his coffee cup. A group of SG personnel entered the commissary together, drawing his attention to the entrance. People came and went, and Carter slowly ate her soup.

"Good soup?" he asked.

Carter stirred up the last of it. "Better than yesterday's, sir." She lingered over the stirring, and she had that concerned look on her face which usually meant bad news. Jack watched her warily.

"Sir, if I may ask..."

"Go ahead," Jack said.

Carter looked up at him. "Have you noticed anything about Daniel lately?"

Jack sat still. He carefully shifted his gaze away from Carter's eyes and down to his empty cup. As lightly as he could, he said, "Uh, no." Nope, he hadn't noticed anything about Daniel lately other than how incredible he looked after sex... Okay, there was something terribly wrong about having that mental image in his head while he was sitting here with Carter. He forced himself to look her again. "Why?"

Carter shrugged. "He seems a little distracted. I wondered if there was something wrong with him."

Jack didn't want to be having this conversation at all. At the same time, he was dying to know what Carter meant. His fingers curled around the empty cup and moved it back and forth. "Something wrong how?" he asked.

Carter hesitated, and for a moment he thought she wouldn't answer. She seemed uneasy that she'd raised the topic. "I don't know," she said finally. "Stress?" She lowered her voice. "Depression?"

Depression? Jack frowned. "He seems depressed to you?" he found himself asking, wishing he hadn't.

"No, not exactly," she said. She sighed a little and shook her head. "It's probably nothing."

"Yeah," Jack said quietly. "Probably nothing."

He watched Sam gather up her tray, give him a reassuring smile, and leave. He checked his watch. He had ten minutes before his meeting with General Hammond. His first thought was to go to Daniel's office and see what in the hell Carter was talking about. He hadn't noticed Daniel was depressed. Then again, he hadn't seen Daniel in over twenty-four hours, and the last time he had seen him, they had been awkwardly saying good-bye in Daniel's kitchen. Twenty-four hours gave Daniel a lot of time to think, reconsider, analyze to death, do all those annoying Daniel things.

Checking his watch again, he got up and headed for Daniel's office. When he neared it, he slowed his steps to a casual saunter, slid his hands into his pockets, and wandered inside, looking around at the weird stuff Daniel kept on his walls.

Daniel, hunched over an open book and taking notes, glanced up at him. "Jack," he said.

"Hey."

Jack picked up a metal thingymabob and pretended to examine it. Daniel was blinking at him, mouth open in an unasked question. Jack set the metal thing down and Daniel cleared his throat, looked at his desk, and pointedly rearranged books and papers as if Jack were disturbing the drafting of the Constitution. "Something you wanted?" Daniel asked.

Jack stood in front of the desk. "No. Just passing through."

Daniel looked up at him and their eyes met. Jack stared, unable to look away, and a jumble of thoughts -- thoughts he should never, ever have in the middle of a military base, of all places -- crowded into his mind. Daniel stared back with an intense look that sent a jolt of heat through Jack's blood.

Depressed? No. Jack was sure of that. Distracted? Oh, yeah. Jack knew the feeling. And Carter was seeing it. Maybe even seeing it in Jack by now. Jack slowly moved his gaze down to the desk. He tapped it with one finger. He flicked his wrist to check his watch.

"Well. Gotta go. Meeting with Hammond."

"Okay."

Jack glanced at Daniel, who was frowning slightly at him and rubbing a pencil between his thumb and forefinger. Jack carefully shifted his sight from the pencil, carefully blotted out the evocative mental imagery it conjured, and carefully wandered out of the office.

\-----

Gate symbols. The gate symbol technique was working, more or less. Focus on a gate symbol. Cluster related thoughts around it. Extract the Jack thoughts carefully, making precise mental cuts, leaving no holes, otherwise the Jack thoughts would slide right back in and take over.

From gate symbols, it was simple enough to move on to hieroglyphics, cuneiform, rock paintings. And this led Daniel back to a translation he'd abandoned for a while when the words would not make sense. He was pleased to revisit it. It gave him an excuse to stay late in the office. Very late. So late that when he went home, it was dark, too dark to see the balcony and the hibachi sitting on the balcony. Very dark inside, and he didn't bother turning on the lights in the empty bedroom, just wearily stripped and fell into bed and into sleep, and kept thinking of gate symbols.

Mornings were hard. Mornings spent shaking off dreams and dream remnants. Mornings spent in an orchestrated rush to keep from looking outside at the balcony. Mornings that ruthlessly set him down in traffic, in an uncontrolled space of time, and left him to his thoughts.

Why was he playing this intricate game of avoidance? Daniel had no easy answers for that one. He felt a bit lost, in the dark, like there was something large and foreboding looming there, waiting. By playing the game, he was stepping around it, always just missing it. But what was it? And why avoid it?

Daniel drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, waiting for the light to change. He was avoiding Jack, but Jack wasn't his real object of avoidance. He was avoiding Jack because he was drawn to Jack. He'd always been drawn to Jack. But somehow, now, it was different. And he knew he shouldn't be avoiding Jack, that it was ridiculous to avoid Jack because they worked together if nothing else, but he couldn't stop himself. Every time he felt drawn, he backed away.

Daniel sighed, irritated, tired of analyses that made him uneasy with himself but gave him no answers. Gate symbols. It was easier to think of gate symbols.

\-----

Jack relaxed. Really, this wasn't going so bad. Funny thing, if he didn't go to Daniel's office, he didn't see Daniel. There was always the possibility Daniel might come to his office, but so far, Daniel hadn't done that. That left lunch and breaks, but he'd found out from Sam that Daniel had been holing himself up in his office 'til all hours, so he could predict with a fair amount of accuracy when Daniel was likely to take lunch.

Not being faced by Daniel left Jack with thoughts of Daniel, which were not so easily dismissed. However, Jack had some previous experience putting off thinking about things, so he put this training into good use. Not, he had to admit, one hundred percent successfully, but at least he was trying. Never mind that at night, alone in his house, he would get such a vivid sensual memory of Daniel that he could almost taste Daniel's skin. Never mind that.

Of course, it was ridiculous. The whole damn thing was ridiculous. There was no possible way they could avoid each other yet work together. Inevitably, there they'd be, standing in front of the gate together, Daniel futzing with something in his gear that he should have taken care of ten minutes earlier. But Jack wasn't all that worried about the inevitable. It was stupid to worry about the inevitable, because, well, it was inevitable. Besides, he had come to the conclusion that the only reason why he and Daniel were avoiding each other was because they didn't have something more pressing -- like imminent doom and destruction -- to think about this very minute. Not to slight Daniel or anything, but something big, like saving Earth, would definitely get Jack's full and undivided attention.

In the meantime, Jack had to face Inevitability Number One: their next briefing. Jack wasn't sure what it was about, so couldn't quite focus his attention on doom and destruction just yet. Instead, he planned his strategy for getting through the briefing without giving anything away.

He was pretty confident in his ability not to give anything away, but he didn't want to be overconfident. The fact was, Daniel had an unnerving ability to see through him most of the time, even if Daniel didn't always show that he could. But Daniel wasn't the worry. Carter and Teal'c and, yes, even General Hammond, all knew him a little too well. Usually, he was glad of that. It made life easier. Right now, though...

Jack sighed and got out his notebook, idly sketching a diagram of the briefing room. This was heavy stuff. Without seriously thinking about it, he had basically fucked up, big time. Sleeping with Daniel Jackson, a member of his own team, a man. Jeez. Way to go, Jack. Saying you knew all the reasons why it was wrong but did it anyway wouldn't go over well in the dishonorable discharge hearing, now would it?

This was heavy stuff. But the absolutely frightening part of it, the part that actually scared him, was that he didn't regret it for one single second. He wouldn't go back and undo it, not for anything. Now _that_ was heavy.

And that was why he had to make sure no one ever, ever figured it out.

His basic strategy was simple: avoid temptation. The temptation in question being not so much Daniel but looking at Daniel. Looking at Daniel was liable to make him slip in some way. Get distracted. So this was the target, and the way to reach the target was to make sure they weren't sitting in an arrangement that made looking at Daniel unavoidable. Why they didn't have assigned seats at the briefing table was, in this case, an annoyance. It gave the operation too much unpredictability.

Jack made a mark at the head of the table on his diagram, the twelve noon position. That would be where the general would sit. That was the one predictable factor. The positions to avoid were he and Daniel at the eleven o'clock and one o'clock, respectively, or the nine o'clock and three o'clock. Jack stared at his diagram. Hmmm. Not good for them to be at eleven o'clock and nine o'clock, or one o'clock and three o'clock, either. Looking was effectively curtailed, but it put them side-by-side. Their elbows might touch on the table. Their chairs might be too close. The best plan was Jack at eleven o'clock or one o'clock, next to Hammond, and Daniel at three o'clock or nine o'clock, diagonally downwind. Jack could keep his attention on the general, and no physical proximity.

Slightly proud of his strategy, Jack reviewed his diagram again. He checked his watch. Damn. He'd spent too much time strategizing. Tossing the notebook aside, he hurried to the briefing.

He and Daniel arrived at the same time, and they both stopped in their tracks when they saw the briefing table and the people sitting around it. Sam sat at nine o'clock and Teal'c sat at three o'clock. Strategies didn't mean a damn when everyone else was punctual.

Jack hung back a little and let Daniel sit down first. Daniel took the seat on Hammond's left. Jack slid into the remaining seat and clasped his hands over the table. Daniel kept his attention rivetted on the folder he was holding. Judging by the set of his jaw, tension in his shoulders, and creases in his brow, Daniel was unhappy with something. So much for not looking, Jack thought bleakly.

"I called this meeting," Hammond began, "because Doctor Jackson notified me of a discovery he made."

"Discovery?" Jack asked, watching Daniel. Daniel shot him a quick glance and passed his folder to General Hammond. Hammond opened it, reviewed the contents, and passed it to Jack.

"There was a translation from P4X-925 that I was unable to crack, and I set it aside. This week I picked it up again and was able to decipher it."

Jack looked at the photographs of an unfamiliar language inscribed on different stone slabs, and scanned the attached translation. So that was what had been keeping Daniel locked away in his office. He handed the folder to Carter.

"As I suspected," Daniel said, "there were aboriginal inhabitants on the planet before the Goa'uld brought humans -- in this case, humans from ancient Mediterranean civilizations -- and left them there. The humans gradually imposed their culture and language over the existing inhabitants, and built a civilization that flourished for a while before disappearing, leaving the ruins we found.

"The inscriptions I studied are written in the alphabet the humans brought with them, but the language is entirely alien. However, the key to the translation was finding words of Greek etymology mixed in with the alien vocabulary. From this I was able to piece together the rest of the translation.

"Basically, this says that the original inhabitants of 925, while technologically inferior to the Goa'uld, possessed some power that drove the Goa'uld away after they had deposited their human slaves. There's no detailed description of the power, but from what the inscriptions say, it apparently rendered Goa'uld technology useless."

Daniel stopped, looked around the table, and waited. Teal'c handed the folder back to him.

"Was there any structure of the original inhabitants left among the ruins we found on this planet?" Teal'c asked.

"I don't know," Daniel said. "That's what I'd like to find out."

He chanced a look at Jack, who had been watching him all this time. Jack's expression was neutral, perhaps a little bored.

"Based on this new information, Doctor Jackson has suggested an archaeological survey of P4X-925," the general announced.

"General?" Jack raised his eyebrows.

"I'm taking it under advisement," Hammond said.

"I think it's an exciting discovery, sir," Sam said. Daniel caught her enthusiastic look. "If there's something left on the planet that could fight the Goa'uld, we should make every attempt to find it."

Hammond nodded. "I agree. I'll let you know my decision. Dismissed."

Daniel was a little disappointed. He had been hoping General Hammond would okay the survey today. It had been months since they'd been on the planet, and he didn't clearly remember all of what they'd found.

Jack stood up to go, but not before giving Daniel a level, closed look. He seemed unhappy about something. Daniel focused his attention on his folder and waited for him to leave. Jack was probably unhappy that Daniel had taken his discovery to Hammond first, but Daniel felt no qualms about that. He'd presented Hammond with a very thorough proposal for the archaeological survey, and it was something only Hammond could green-light. So. Jack was just going to have to be unhappy for a while.

But as he wandered back to his office, Daniel had second thoughts. Maybe Jack wasn't unhappy about the survey. Maybe he was unhappy about... something else. No need to clarify what something else, Daniel thought, neatly sidestepping a whole host of images and memories he was trying to avoid.

He sat down at his desk, switched on the lamp, and took out the terrain maps of 925. He stared at the tiny contour outlines and numbers for a few minutes, but what he thought about was Jack being unhappy, and being unhappy with him.

This was ridiculous. This had to stop.

He conjured up one of the gate symbols for 925. Focus. Then he turned his attention back to the maps.

"Daniel?"

Daniel looked up sharply. Jack stood in front of the desk, hands in pockets, expression still closed.

"Yes?"

Jack stared at him for a moment, but this was a look Daniel wasn't sure of. He tightened his hold on his pencil.

"It's Thursday," Jack said.

"Yes, I know," Daniel said slowly.

Jack looked around the office. "I, uh, I made reservations at O'Malley's."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Jack said quietly, looking down. "For seven-thirty."

"Um..." Daniel paused, excuses warring with questions. He set them all aside. "Okay. I'll meet you there."

Jack nodded briefly and left. Daniel looked down at the terrain maps. Several minutes later he concentrated on them.

\-----

"Oh, yes. O'Neill," the hostess said, checking her chart. "Your friend is already here."

"My friend?" Daniel asked.

She smiled brightly at him. "Yes. It's been quiet tonight, so we already seated him. At your favorite table. See?"

"Favorite table?" Daniel murmured as he made his way to Jack's table. Come to think of it, they had sat here before. Multiple times. He hadn't thought about it before. He sat down.

Jack was drinking a shot of whiskey. He wore the dark green shirt Daniel had been hoping -- and not hoping -- he would wear, the one that looked really, really good on him. He acknowledged Daniel with a tight, unconvincing smile, and drained his shot glass.

The waitress came and greeted them with smiles. They ordered, sat in silence until the beers arrived, and each took a drink.

"So," said Daniel.

"So."

Jack ran a finger around the rim of his beer glass. Daniel watched him and felt a quick rush of heat flood his skin. He took a breath and reminded himself that this had to stop. Had to. All the way over in the car, he had listed his arguments for ending it. They were all reasonable, compelling arguments. They were taking chances with Jack's career, possibly even Daniel's. This could interfere with their working relationship. There were just too many obstacles to this working.

The reason he didn't plan to mention was that he was completely scared. Scared of the nameless, foreboding thing. Scared of making Jack unhappy. Scared of opening up to certain emotions only to lose it all again. Most of all, scared by the fact he didn't regret a second of it.

"Here we are again," Jack said, looking around the restaurant.

"At our favorite table," Daniel said.

"Favorite table?"

"That's what the hostess said."

Jack sat back and looked at the table. "I like this table because it's near the front, but I didn't think... She said that, huh?"

Daniel drank some beer, watching Jack steadily. "She said that." Jack didn't have to say it; they were thinking the same thoughts. The hostess had noticed them together. The hostess believed they had a favorite table. If it was obvious to the hostess, a total stranger, how obvious was it to the people they knew?

Jack frowned and tapped his fingers on the table. "Guys eat out with each other all the time. It's no big deal."

"Unless they're dating," Daniel commented quietly.

Jack stared at him. "Yeah. Unless that." He rubbed his thumb along his beer glass. "Daniel. We've been avoiding each other."

Daniel blinked, surprised by Jack's directness. Relieved by it, too. Wouldn't this make it easier to say what he had to say? Easier to end it?

"I know."

"Kind of stupid, don't you think?"

Daniel frowned a little. "Stupid in that we can't work together and avoid each other? Yes."

Jack took another sip of beer, set his glass down carefully, and stared at it. "I think we have to stop."

Daniel, about to take a drink, paused. "Stop? Stop avoiding each other?"

Jack's gaze met his. "No. I mean stop stop."

"Oh."

Stop stop. Stop for good. And that was what he wanted, right? He took a slow drink of beer and stared at Jack.

And the look in Jack's eyes... Oh, Daniel had never wanted to see that look again, not directed at him. He wanted to soothe that look away, anyway he could, but not here. Not now. Not ever. "Why?" he asked slowly.

Jack's eyebrows lifted. "What do you mean, why? You know why." Irritation edged his voice.

Daniel rested his forearms on the table. "Tell me why." He needed to know Jack's reasons. He was losing focus on his own.

"Daniel."

Daniel blinked at him. "Jack."

They stared at each other, silent. A woman at a neighboring table laughed loudly at some unheard joke. From the bar came sounds of glass clinking.

Why was Daniel doing this? Daniel damned well knew why. Why did Daniel have to make this difficult? Not that it was going to be a piece of cake anyway.

Jack took a breath and glared at him, effectively blocking out how attractive he looked in the blue shirt Jack liked best, effectively ignoring the heightened color in his cheeks, the flash of challenge in his eyes.

"Daniel," he gritted out. "Don't do this."

"Do what?" Daniel said mildly. "I just asked you a question, that's all: why?"

Jack sighed in frustration. "You know why. Because it's risky, and wrong."

Daniel flattened his fingers over the table. "Wrong," he repeated. "You believe it's wrong."

Jack leaned closer and lowered his voice. "You know it's wrong."

Daniel stared at him for a moment. Coldly. Pissed off. Oh, damn. Jack wondered if Daniel knew what that look did to him. What that look made him want to do. He sat back and took a drink of beer.

Daniel looked down at his fingers. "In what sense is it wrong?"

Jack sighed. "Wrong in every sense."

"Oh." Daniel sat back, brow furrowed, mouth set in a tight line. "Every sense."

Jack shifted uncomfortably. "I didn't mean in _that_ sense," he said. "In that sense, it was great."

Daniel glared at him. "But other than that..."

"You know what I meant."

"No, I don't."

"Dammit, Daniel, I'm not going to argue about this."

"Argue about what? You haven't given me anything to argue about. I ask you why, and you give me 'risky' and 'wrong'. I'm just asking you to define your terms."

Jack set his beer glass aside and frowned. "What the hell do you mean, define my terms? Risky means risky and wrong means wrong."

Daniel narrowed his eyes. "No. Risky means we're risking everything in our lives for this, and wrong means this violates every code of conduct that structures the closed society we live in. Those are the terms, aren't they?"

"Well..." Putting it that way made it seem more severe than Jack had thought.

"Well, they are," Daniel said.

"But that's not what I said."

"Yes, it is."

Jack rubbed a hand across his forehead to fight off an incipient headache. "Daniel," he said. "What's your point?"

Daniel furrowed his brow and blinked. "Well, I guess my point is, we have to stop."

_Huh?_ A road-map to Daniel's mind would be helpful about now, Jack thought. Nice little U-turn there. "Just like that?" Jack asked, wary.

"Just like that."

Daniel took a sip of beer. He didn't seem too bothered, all of a sudden. Jack frowned and sat forward. He didn't trust Daniel's coolness about this, but he also couldn't see through it, and that bothered him.

"Stop means stop," he pointed out. "Everything. No more steak dinners." He gestured at the restaurant around them.

"I know," Daniel said.

Jack looked at him. Daniel looked back. Silent, closed off. Jack hated -- absolutely hated -- to see Daniel like this. Would do anything not to. But couldn't. Not here. Not now. Not ever.

Well, if this is what Daniel wanted... Okay, so he'd been the one to say stop first, but still. Daniel didn't have to be so calm about it.

"Fine," he said shortly.

"Fine," said Daniel.

Their steaks arrived. Jack ate with his usual ruthlessness. Daniel ate with his usual savoring, although perhaps not lingering quite as much. They didn't order coffee. They split the bill. They left the restaurant.

In the parking lot, Jack stopped, glanced up at the cloudy, moonlit sky, and said, "So."

Daniel jiggled his car keys in his jacket pocket. "So."

Jack looked over at him. Daniel returned the look. They stood for a few moments, silent, then turned away and walked to their cars.

And that was that, Jack thought. Back on track. A more gloomy track than before, maybe, but no risk, no wrong-doing, right? Right.

And now he didn't have to strategize for their next briefing. He breezed in as he normally would, sat down next to Teal'c, tapped the table, and waited for the meeting to begin. When Daniel showed up, he acknowledged him with a brief, carefully neutral glance. Got a brief, carefully neutral glance in return.

"I've reviewed Doctor Jackson's notes on P4X-925," General Hammond said as the meeting began. "I've decided to grant his proposal for an archaeological survey on the planet. Doctor Jackson will be temporarily reassigned to SG-11 to oversee the survey."

Jack looked from Hammond to Daniel and back again. "Reassigned? Who'll work with SG-1, sir?"

Hammond smiled a little. "You and Teal'c will be on stand-down for the time being. I've received a request from the Air Force Academy for Major Carter's expertise."

Jack glanced at Carter. "I see, sir."

Hammond stood up. "Dismissed."

Jack watched Daniel get up, slip him a cautious look, and leave. Jack stood up and wandered into Hammond's office.

"Yes, Colonel?" Hammond looked up from his paperwork.

"This survey of Daniel's. Is it really worth splitting up SG-1 for, sir?"

"Temporarily, yes, I believe it is."

"Ah." Jack nodded. "And how long is temporarily?"

Hammond smiled. "Don't worry, Colonel, you won't have too long to cool your heels. Doctor Jackson's proposal was for a three-week concentrated survey of an area near the ruins. And in the meantime, I think I'll have another assignment or two for you and Teal'c."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

He left Hammond's office, went to his own, stood in the doorway for a moment, then turned around and wandered back down the corridor. He casually walked past Daniel's office, peeked inside, but it was empty. He kept walking and eventually reached the gym, where Major Gonzalez and Captain Durning from SG-11 were working out. Gonzalez got that sheepishly embarrassed look he'd had ever since the incident on P9A-933. Jack got Durning's attention and called him over.

"There's something I want you to do for me," he said.

\-----

Major Gonzalez finished the last of his daily rations, stood up, and trudged up the hill to survey site 1a. He switched on the floodlights, and the glare blocked out the spectacularly purple P4X-925 sunset. He stood at the edge of the dig and rested his fists on his hips. There was something going on here, between Durning and Doctor Jackson. There they were: Jackson, as usual, stretched out on his stomach inside the pit, brushing dirt away from something, entirely focused on whatever that something was. Durning, next to him, his shadow, holding a small box and shaking it, letting dirt run out through the mesh bottom. Durning, who had been known in the past to call Doctor Jackson "that prissy geek from SG-1," was spending this entire mission by Jackson's side.

Gonzalez watched them for a moment longer, then climbed down into the pit. Without looking at him, Jackson said, "Watch that pottery sherd, please." Gonzalez double-checked his next step, saw the sherd, glared at Jackson's back, and crouched next to Durning.

"Any luck?" he asked the captain.

"No, sir."

Durning picked up a tiny piece of rock from the mesh and held it up, squinting at it. Jackson looked up from his brushing, took the rock from Durning's fingers and examined it carefully. He sat up and tossed it into the waste pile of dirt. Gonzalez sighed.

"I told the boys in 2a to work another couple of hours, Doctor Jackson. Then we have to send our daily report to SGC." He took a breath and reminded himself that he was a major, and Jackson was a civilian. Jackson was in charge of the survey, Gonzalez was in charge of SG-11. This was his call. "Oh, and Doctor Jackson, if you want to work all night, that's fine. But my boys are ordered to quit after two hours and get their rest. All of them," he added, giving Durning his best I'm-in-command-here glare.

Durning had the good sense to nod, but ruined the effect by then turning to Jackson. Jackson took off his glasses, pulled a cloth out of one of his pockets, and wiped the lenses. When he replaced them, he fixed Gonzalez with an icy stare Gonzalez was getting used to, and said, "I understand."

Gonzalez got up, shot Durning another warning look he hoped Durning had the intelligence to understand, and climbed out of the pit, carefully avoiding the sherd.

Two hours later, in pit 3b, Gonzalez stood up and stretched his back. He was never going to understand archaeology. Sure, he understood why Doctor Jackson was important to SGC, but archaeology as a profession anyone would willingly enter was beyond him. A lot of work for little payback, and at the end of it you had to write a bunch of reports? And apparently, outside of the SGC, it didn't even pay well. Different strokes, he supposed.

He wandered over to 1a. Jackson certainly thrived on it, though, he had to admit. He had rarely seen anyone so intent on what they were doing. So lost in it he could lay there in the dirt for hours, examining more dirt.

"Durning. Time to report back." Captain Durning scrambled to his feet, holding a box of broken pottery. He climbed out of the pit and showed Gonzalez the box. "We found all of this today, sir." Gonzalez nodded, and followed Durning to the MALP.

This was the other piece of the puzzle. Durning had volunteered to make the daily reports back to SGC, and for two weeks had been a little too conscientious about this task. Nothing suspicious in that, not really, but Gonzalez started to listen in nevertheless, and tonight listened again.

The report began as usual. General Hammond's voice greeted them. Durning gave the basic, disappointing progress. Hammond sent words of encouragement. Then Durning asked, "Is Colonel O'Neill there, sir?"

"Yes, he is, Captain."

O'Neill's voice: "Captain?"

Durning said, "Two today, sir. Durning out."

All right. This was really bugging him now. Gonzalez waited for the stargate to disengage and for Durning to switch off the MALP. He followed Durning back to camp. At least Durning was obeying his orders and not heading straight back to Jackson again.

"Captain, I'd like a word with you," Gonzalez said, drawing him aside.

"What is it, sir?"

Gonzalez looked him straight in the eyes. "There's something in your daily reports I don't understand."

Durning immediately looked guilty. So, he was on the right track. "What, sir?"

"What are you reporting back to Colonel O'Neill? I've overheard you three times this week. Tonight you said, 'two today'. What does that mean?"

Durning took a breath and stood up straight. "It's, um, something he asked me to do, sir."

"He gave you an order concerning this mission?"

Durning deflated a little. "No, sir. Not exactly."

"Then out with it. Just tell me what's going on," Gonzalez said, impatient. "That's an order," he added.

Durning shrugged. "It's nothing, sir. He and Major Carter have a bet on how many meals Doctor Jackson will miss during the survey. He asked me to report the number back to him. He's keeping a tally."

"Colonel O'Neill has a bet with Major Carter over another member of his team?" Gonzalez asked. "That's what this is about? Is that why you've been shadowing Jackson this whole time?"

Durning frowned. "Well, yes, sir. I have to see if he sneaks any snacks. I want to be fair."

Gonzalez shook his head. Popular opinion was that SG-1 were all nuts, and he was beginning to side with popular opinion, even though he still felt grateful to O'Neill and Jackson for not holding his behavior on P9A-933 against him. "Okay, Captain. Get some sleep."

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Should I continue reporting back to Colonel O'Neill, sir? For the bet?"

"Yes, Captain. Go ahead." He started to go. "Uh, any idea who's winning?"

Durning shrugged and shook his head. "No idea, sir."

\-----

Back at SGC, Jack watched the event horizon disengage. He chewed on the inside of his lip, shoved his hands in his pockets, and wandered back to his office. Two meals today. Two yesterday. One the day before yesterday. If Daniel came back, he was going to be a twig. _When_ Daniel came back, Jack corrected himself. When.

Not that Daniel was likely to not come back. Daniel had a knack for getting out of trouble by the skin of his teeth, and so far, there were no signs of trouble on 925. So. Jack was worrying about nothing. And, to be honest, he would be worrying about nothing if it were Carter or Teal'c out there alone, with only SG-11 to keep them company. On the other hand, if it were Carter or Teal'c, he wouldn't have fed Captain Durning such an inventive lie to get these cryptic reports back. No, he had to be honest about that, too.

He sat down at his desk and stared at the wall. Was he really becoming this pathetic bastard who lived for five-minute daily reports when he could see Durning's cornfed face tell him how Daniel was not eating regularly? Apparently so. When had it come to this?

If they hadn't already agreed to stop their... their... he had no good word for it, so he settled for 'their thing', then this would be further proof that they should stop. So, what did it tell him that he was acting like this after they did stop?

It told him, he decided, to get a life.

"Sir?"

Jack looked up. Carter stepped inside, hands behind her back, smiling apologetically. "Am I disturbing you, Colonel?"

"No, Major. What is it?"

Carter stood in front of his desk. "Just wondering... Any news from Daniel?"

Jack drummed the desk with his thumbs. "Just the usual reports. No luck."

Carter nodded, looking more optimistic than disappointed. "They still have another week, sir."

"Yeah." Jack watched her. He liked Carter. Carter was nice and friendly. Carter listened. Carter didn't argue. Not much, anyway. And Carter liked steak. He could ask Carter to O'Malley's. It was Thursday, after all.

He opened his mouth and stopped. Carter's brow creased a little. "Sir? Is there something wrong?"

Jack shook his head. "Uh, no. Nothing. Is that all, Major?"

Carter gave him a concerned smile and started to leave. "Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir." She gave him another careful look before disappearing into the corridor. Jack watched her go. No, nothing was wrong, aside from the fact that he'd almost asked out Major Carter because he was beginning to hate Thursday nights. Oh, might as well just say it: he hated Thursday nights without Daniel. There. He'd admitted it. There it was.

And he didn't know a damned thing he could do about it.

\-----

He was alone. At last. Daniel sent silent thanks to Major Gonzalez for ordering Durning back to camp. What was it with Durning, anyway? His almost constant companionship was beginning to unnerve Daniel. At least he wasn't clumsy with the artifacts. Not much, anyway.

Not that they'd found many. Daniel sighed, sat up, and stretched his shoulders. The floodlights blazed around him, illuminating pit 1a. It was warm tonight, so he took off his bandana, wiped the grime from his face with it, and took a sip of water from his canteen.

Three weeks. What had he been thinking? Three weeks was nothing, not nearly enough time. He looked around pit 1a bleakly. They'd barely scratched the surface, and they only had another week to go. He wondered if he could persuade General Hammond to grant an extension. Jack wouldn't like that, though.

Jack. Daniel carefully shifted his thoughts away from Jack and stood up. The night was quiet. He could hear soft voices coming from the camp. Someone laughed. He decided to take a walk.

Beyond the ring of floodlights, the night was black. Not many stars visible tonight, shielded by clouds. Daniel's boots crunched over the ground as he headed away from the camp. He didn't start with a destination in mind, but mid-walk, he'd decided on this place. He knew how to get there by following the line of bushes. Watch for the boulder. Climb up the little slope. There.

The slope dipped sharply in front of him, over a wide, empty plateau. He couldn't see it now, but he felt its vastness nevertheless. He sat down on the slope and looked up at the sky. His second night here, he'd found this place. That night the sky had been clear, and full of stars. Caught off guard by its magnificence and beauty, he'd thought, _Jack would love this place_.

Now he took a deep breath, exhaled, leaned back and closed his eyes. He would grant himself this painful luxury, just for a moment or two. He cleared his mind and thoughts of Jack rushed in, a flood, an aching, wonderful flood. Jokes and looks and sarcastic smiles and warm, welcome touches. He drowned in the flood for a few minutes, then carefully, meticulously, closed the gates again.

When he returned to the dig area, he decided to check the other pits before going back to camp. He could still hear SG-11 talking, and didn't feel like being social with them. He hopped down into pit 3b, crouched and passed his flashlight over the ground. Gonzalez might be unimaginative and prickly, but he was serious about his assignments. 3b was looking good in that respect, but Daniel suspected it wasn't going to be worth Gonzalez's efforts. He climbed out and went over to 2a.

This was a different story. What was that pile of dirt doing over there, when they'd just cleared that area yesterday? Daniel sighed disgustedly and inspected today's work. Not too bad, but a little haphazard. He could see rocks poking out from the ground that should have been cleared. He knelt down, took out his tools, and started working.

The voices from the camp died down. Daniel had no idea how much time passed. Once he put his head down on his arms and dozed for a while, but when he woke up, it was still night. He continued clearing the area, not sure why he felt compelled to do it other than that it kept him busy.

But if he hadn't done it, he might never have found the stone. He brushed away some dirt and there it was, just sitting there, waiting for him. He aimed his flashlight at it, stared at it, finally touched it, picking it up and cradling it in his hand. It was a milky blue gemstone, about the size of his palm, flat on one size and curved on the other. It was heavy and cold, and the bottom third had cracked off. He turned it over. The flat side was inscribed, and one word jumped out immediately: the word the inhabitants had used for the Goa'uld.

\-----

It was the same feeling she used to get when Dad came home after a long assignment. That nervous happiness that now the family would be back together. And as she did when she was a child, Sam hid this feeling as best she could. She took her place beside Colonel O'Neill. Teal'c stood just behind them.

She hadn't realized how much she'd missed Daniel until it was the day for him and SG-11 to come back. She had a lot to tell him, and couldn't wait to see the gemstones they'd found and hear his report. The reports back to SGC made it clear Daniel didn't know if these gems were what they had been looking for, but she couldn't wait to get them to her lab, anyway. More than that, though, she just wanted to see Daniel again, safe and sound. Then SG-1 would be back together.

And maybe, she hoped, that would be what Colonel O'Neill needed to become himself again. Because the Colonel O'Neill of the past three weeks had been a very odd, more restless than usual, quieter than usual Colonel O'Neill. The only times he'd seemed himself were when they were offworld. It was as if he needed the danger to feel himself again, and that was not a comforting thought. The only explanation she had for it was what she felt herself: SG-1 was split apart, and they needed to be together.

"Transmission code received," Sergeant Davis announced. "It's SG-11, sir."

"Open the iris," General Hammond said.

As the iris opened, Colonel O'Neill went down to the gateroom. Sam and Teal'c followed. They stood at the end of the ramp as the first members of SG-11 stepped out from the wormhole. General Hammond joined them.

"Welcome back," he said, smiling.

Major Gonzalez saluted. "Thank you, sir." Two other members passed by, carrying a large crate between them. The rear was brought up by SG-11's captain, carrying a smaller crate, and, finally, Daniel. Daniel strode down the ramp, straight for the rest of SG-1, and said, "You have to see these stones. They're fascinating. They might be the key, but Sam will need to do some analyses... Oh, hi, Sam."

Sam grinned at him. "Welcome back."

Colonel O'Neill lifted his right hand, hesitated, and finally clapped Daniel on the back. "Good to have you back," he said quietly. Sam watched them, wondering at the colonel's uncharacteristically low-key welcome. Daniel appeared puzzled by it, as well, but got distracted by General Hammond informing him of their briefing schedule. The event horizon disengaged and the various members of SG-1, SG-11 and the gateroom guard split up in the bustle.

The crates were carried straight to Carter's lab, and the returning party went to hit the showers and change. Jack calculated the time it would take for Carter and Daniel to unpack the crates before showing up at the lab. He stood in the doorway and leaned against it for a few minutes, watching them.

They were hunched over the big crate. Daniel carefully lifted one of the big blue stones and brushed his fingers over it. Despite Durning's reports on missed meals, Daniel didn't look too bad. Lost a little weight, looked like he hadn't slept a lot, but he was animated and determined, lifting objects from the crate and pointing out details to Sam. As he lifted a large round stone from the crate, he spotted Jack.

"Jack, you have to see these," he said, gesturing for Jack to join them. Jack moved from the doorway and stepped over to peer over Carter's shoulder.

"Nice," he said, looking down at a bunch of pretty blue stones, most of them chipped or cracked.

Carter held one up that was almost clear. "There are a couple of tests I want to run..." She took the stone over to some equipment in the back of the lab.

Jack reached into the crate and picked up a heavy, purplish-blue one. He turned it over in his hands and noticed some carvings on the flat side. "So, you think these things can fight the Goa'uld?"

Daniel replaced the stone he was holding. "I don't know yet. First I need to piece together the ones with writing on them, and I'm hoping Sam will find some property in them... But the first one -- this one -- talks about the Goa'uld." He held up a stone and handed it to Jack. Jack looked at it, and looked up at Daniel.

Daniel was telling him something. Some theory about what the stone said, what it meant, the kinds of tests he wanted Sam to run. Jack heard it all, but what got him was the look. The way Daniel looked as he said all this, as he lifted another stone up and pointed out the writing and explained it. Excited, fascinated, on an intellectual buzz, completely immersed in the moment. And for a second, Jack's world shook, because he realized he had seen that look before, and not because of any old rocks. He'd seen Daniel look that way for _him_. Because of _him_.

Daniel fell silent, frowning at one stone as he held it up to the light. Carter was switching on some loud machine in the back. Jack put the stones he was holding back into the crate. He rested his hand on Daniel's shoulder.

"Good going," he said. Daniel glanced at him in acknowledgment. Jack patted Daniel's shoulder, said goodbye to Carter, who waved without turning around, and left the lab.

They were busy, and he had some thinking to do.

\-----

One of these days, he was going to have to tell Sam about the plant she'd bought him. Daniel sighed at the pot of dirt and the leafless, withered stems, and wondered what the best way to dispose of a dead plant was. It was just as well he had given up the aquarium when he moved.

It was... okay... to be back home. He couldn't say good, because while it was okay, it wasn't really good. Things hadn't changed, except that the plant had finally died. He left the plant where it was and opened the balcony door. He stepped outside in the crisp afternoon air and looked down at the hibachi. He didn't know what to do with that, either.

He leaned his forearms on the railing. Now that he'd come home, seen that everything was just as he'd left it, less one struggling plant, he was itching to get back to SGC and work on those stones from P4X-925. Sam's tests were all coming up negative, so the answer must be in the inscriptions. He hoped.

He was lost in thoughts about the inscriptions when there was a knock on the door. He went back inside and opened it. Jack stepped into the apartment, looking at him steadily. A direct, no-nonsense look that made Daniel take a step back and catch his breath. He stared back.

They stared at each other for a long, silent moment. Jack reached out, cupped his hand to Daniel's neck and pulled him into a kiss. A fierce, hungry kiss that ignited something in Daniel, something that melted all the gates and let the floods rush in. He grabbed Jack's hips and pulled him hard against him, hitting the wall as he did so, and all he could think was, _Oh god, yes. Yes yes yes yes yes_.

Kisses so rough his lips stung. Jack's hands restless, greedy, grasping. Heat that engulfed him, sudden and relentless. Driving him to push, to pull, to grab and hold onto Jack and stumble them both through the apartment. Something fell to the floor with a crash. He didn't care. Jack pressed him up against another wall, devouring his tongue.

He gripped Jack's jacket and pulled it down, already working on Jack's shirt as Jack let go to let the jacket slide off his arms. He dropped Jack's shirt on the floor. Jack tugged on his sweater, nearly taking his glasses off with it. Jack caught the glasses, set them aside on a table, and slid his hands up Daniel's sides, lifting Daniel's shirt and undershirt off in one smooth stroke. Daniel, less smoothly but more quickly, pulled Jack's undershirt off and threw it on a chair.

They were skin to skin now, heat to heat, kissing over and over. Not faltering even when Jack reached down to fumble with his shoes and socks; Daniel simply moved with him and reached to undo his trousers. Jack stepped free of them and held Daniel's hips, locked their bodies together, and Daniel drew him forward, through the doorway, into the bedroom.

When his calves hit the bed, Daniel stopped and let go to strip out of the rest of his clothes. He slid back across the bed. Jack pushed his boxer shorts off and slid right over him. Oh, yes. Yes, yes. Touching everywhere, moving with one another, pulling each other so close as if to climb inside. Urgent, restless, not letting go. Kiss to kiss, breath over skin, sweat and pulse and hardness. No words for this. Nothing but Jack.

They were going for light-speed, too famished to stop. Didn't matter. Daniel felt Jack shudder in his arms, and crested with him. A fevered rush and a mindless high, compressed into a few priceless seconds. Oh. Yes.

Jack eased his hold and settled next to him. Daniel caught his breath. He stared up at the ceiling and watched the color fade with gradually vanishing light.

"I thought we were going to stop," he said quietly. He hadn't wanted to say anything at all, but he had to know, now. He didn't think he could bear to know, yet he had to.

Jack was silent for a long time. Then he felt the back of Jack's hand glide down his arm. "We'll stop tomorrow," Jack said.

Daniel exhaled a breath and relaxed. "Oh." More color drained from the ceiling. "What time is it?"

Jack lifted his hand to check his watch, the one item he'd managed to keep on, Daniel noticed. "About six-thirty," Jack said.

Daniel turned over and drew him into a slow kiss. "Then tomorrow's pretty far away."

Jack looked amused. "Uh huh." He smoothed his hands down Daniel's sides and guided him until Daniel was lying on top of him.

Daniel raised up on one elbow. "I thought you said I was too heavy."

Jack's hands kept moving up and down his back, slow and warm. "You lost weight on that dig." The room was growing dimmer as the faint glow of sunset vanished from the other room.

Daniel lifted one eyebrow. "Uh huh."

Jack brushed his lips along Daniel's neck. "Well, you did. Skipping all those meals..." He stopped abruptly and looked at Daniel. He opened and closed his mouth. "Uh..."

Daniel's brow creased. "You were keeping tabs on me?"

Jack considered denying it. Wondered if kissing Daniel now would prevent him from having to answer. Decided it wouldn't. He said lightly, "Oh, just a few reports now and then."

"Reports."

"Yeah. You know. Carter wanted to know how you were doing..." Oooo. Wrong thing to say. Something flashed in Daniel's eyes and he tried to move off. Jack held Daniel's hips.

"Daniel. _I_ wanted to know how you were doing."

Daniel relaxed again. The flash was gone. "Oh," Daniel said. His gaze moved up, he seemed to be inspecting Jack's hair, because he combed through it gently with his fingertips. Jack eased his hold and resumed stroking Daniel's back. Warm, smooth. He couldn't get enough of how good this felt.

"Is that why Captain Durning followed me around the whole time?"

Jack sighed. Totally busted. "Yeah. I told him I had a bet about how many meals you'd miss. Well, I had to tell him something."

But instead of looking annoyed, Daniel just blinked. The good blink, not the bad blink. "That's a relief. I thought he was coming on to me or something."

Jack lifted his eyebrows. "Durning?" He thought Durning was married with two kids. "He better not have," he muttered.

Daniel cracked a smile at that, and actually laughed. A low, quiet chuckle that Jack felt more than heard. Felt all the way down his body, in fact.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," Daniel murmured, kissing his ear, behind his ear, his neck, and _Oh, Daniel_. They weren't even dry yet. Hey, but he couldn't fault Daniel for the attempt. Jack just needed his dick to catch up with the rest of his body. Daniel moving against him, over him, running his hands everywhere he could touch, kissing along his throat and jaw and the nape of his neck.

Daniel shifted a little and entwined their legs, and his cock, already perking up -- _jeez_ \-- rested on Jack's thigh. He slid his fingers across Jack's chest, through Jack's chest hair. Jack took his hand and guided Daniel's fingers to his right nipple. Daniel gave him a curious look, but took the hint and rubbed and tweaked it. _Ah, yes_. Jack exhaled as currents of pleasure spread from the touch.

Daniel was watching him. He experimentally pinched, and Jack shuddered and bit his tongue. Daniel lifted his eyebrows. "Huh," he said.

_Huh, yourself_. Jack cupped the back of Daniel's head and tilted it to expose more neck. He kissed exactly where he knew he should kiss, gave it a hint of a bite -- nothing that would leave a mark -- and Daniel shivered languorously against him.

He liked this: Daniel exploring him with his fingers and his lips and his whole body, in fact, and he got to lie back and watch Daniel get hard again, get that look about him that was still a reality fuck -- the horny Daniel look. Which, now that he considered it, bore a slight resemblence to the intense scrutinizing Daniel look. With lust added. _He_ was causing this look. Him. Jack O'Neill. God, could anything be weirder, or more wonderful?

Daniel kept sweeping his fingertips across Jack's chest, would stop to rub and pinch his nipples. Seemed pretty smug when Jack would suck in a breath or shudder. And he fixated on Jack's throat, kissing and licking (_ohmygod, Daniel is **licking** me_) and even biting once or twice. And it was all good, like no-words-to-describe good, causing cascades of warmth to course through Jack's skin.

The light was going fast. Jack reached over and switched on the lamp. Daniel paused, eyes heavy-lidded, face flushed, body wound tight, bathed in soft gold from the lamp. Jack kissed him long, hard, thorough. Daniel breathed heavily into the kiss, and his hard-on shoved against Jack's thigh.

He drew back from the kiss, and Jack caressed Daniel's back and sides. Keeping his gaze locked to Daniel's, he let his hands wander lower. Briefly enjoyed the firm, smooth curves of Daniel's ass -- and Daniel, though he blinked meaningfully, seemed to enjoy it, too. He moved on to Daniel's thighs, following them with wide strokes, first along the outside, then up along the inner thighs. Daniel shivered and rose up on his knees. Jack smiled softly.

He brought one hand around the back of Daniel's thigh and urged it up and over, until Daniel was straddling him. Was on his knees and over him and horny and hard and even though it was all the strangest thing in the world, Jack just couldn't get enough of it. He wrapped his fingers around Daniel's cock, held it, felt it shift and swell in his hand. Daniel swallowed and stayed still, but his chest rose and fell rapidly.

Jack moved his hand. Up, down. Steady. Tight. Not too fast. Make it last. Make it good. And last time, he'd freaked doing this? Amazing. He watched. He felt Daniel's heat and shudders. Felt slick fluid as he rolled his hand over the tip, and he brought the wetness down with his fingers. Felt Daniel almost thrust. Oh. Yes.

Daniel bit his lower lip. Jack increased the pressure, increased the rhythm, and Daniel really thrust this time. Yeah, oh yeah. More. Harder. Faster. Wonderful to see, wonderful to feel. And then this moment, when Daniel stilled, and sort of moany-gasped, and his eyes closed, and his head tilted back, and he came. Long, strong, sticky spurts that just sorta fell everywhere in a glorious mess.

Jack watched his face, watched him breathe in, watched him float in the high for a moment. He caressed and let go gently, and watched. Daniel opened his eyes and stared down at him, serious, quiet, intense. Jack smiled a little. Daniel half-shook his head and smiled.

Daniel eased off of him and stretched out alongside, propped up on one elbow. Jack looked down at himself and lifted his eyebrows. "Um, would it spoil the moment if I asked if I could get cleaned up?"

"Go ahead," Daniel said. He sounded amused and satisfied. He rolled onto his back and stretched. Jack got up, took a moment to admire the sight, and headed for the bathroom.

He came back, and Daniel went to clean up. Jack slid under the covers. Daniel returned and joined him. They lay on their backs, shoulder-to-shoulder, arms touching, not talking, occasionally dozing. At some point, shoulder-to-shoulder was too far away. Daniel slid into Jack's arms and they negotiated a comfortable embrace.

"Are you hungry?" Daniel asked, voice loud after the silence.

"Are you?"

Daniel rested his hand on Jack's stomach. "Yes." He looked at him. "I don't suppose you brought any steaks this time."

Jack rubbed the back of Daniel's neck. "If I had, they'd be rotten by now."

Yeah, he had a point there. Daniel rested his head on Jack's shoulder and thought. "There's a Chinese place that delivers until eleven. It's not very good, but..."

Jack checked his watch. That watch. He'd never taken it off. There was something so Jack about that, Daniel decided, staring at the watch. "Then we have half an hour left," Jack said. "You have a menu?"

They ordered Chinese. Jack lay back and yawned and generally looked like he was never going to leave the bed, so Daniel got up and threw on some clothes and paid the delivery guy. He brought the food to Jack in bed, and sat cross-legged over the comforter to eat and tried not to spill rice.

Jack cracked open a fortune cookie. "'Someone you respect will pay you a great compliment.'" He raised an eyebrow and looked at Daniel. Daniel ignored the dare. His said, 'Your hard work will be rewarded.'

"_Your_ hard work?" Jack said, and Daniel felt a blush creep across his cheeks.

"It could mean the gemstones we brought back from 925," he said.

"Uh huh."

Fed and weary, Daniel set the leftovers on the floor, stripped, and got into bed. Jack kissed him, tasting of white sauce and ginger. "Goodnight," Jack said.

"Night." He switched off the lamp and settled on his side. Jack settled behind him and curved an arm around his waist.

Daniel closed his eyes and waited for sleep. He felt Jack fall asleep first, relaxing, breathing deeply. He opened his eyes to darkness. A panicked chill ran through him. This. He couldn't stand to lose this again: the other person, someone there, someone holding you, someone you held. Not just this, though. He couldn't stand to lose Jack. There. He'd acknowledged it. He wanted this, and he wanted this with Jack.

Even though it was crazy, utterly insane, dangerous, and a really bad idea. He still wanted it.

The chill evaporated. Daniel rested his arm over Jack's forearm and held him in place. He thought about the inscriptions on the gemstones until he fell asleep.

Jack was awake when Daniel woke up, resting on his side and watching Daniel. Daniel stared at him for a few minutes, silent. They weren't touching, but that was okay, for now.

"So," said Daniel.

"So."

It was all there, in the look in Jack's eyes, a warmth that enveloped him. Daniel swallowed hard and rolled onto his back and looked at the ceiling. He didn't want to say it, but he had to. "It's morning."

Jack hadn't moved. He put his hand on Daniel's chest. "Yep." His fingertips traced along Daniel's sternum. Daniel waited, uncertain. Jack kissed his shoulder.

"Jack..."

Jack moved closer and kissed his neck. "Yeah?"

"I thought..." Oh, now that was playing dirty, kissing where he knew to kiss. Daniel caught his breath. "In the morning. You said we'd stop in the morning."

"I lied." There was a smile in Jack's voice. He kissed behind Daniel's ear.

Daniel pulled away just enough to look at him. "You don't lie. Not to me. So. It's morning."

Jack glanced down at the bed and frowned a little. "It's morning," he conceded. "But, dammit, I..." He looked at Daniel, hesitating. "...don't want to. Do you?"

Daniel held still, staring at him. He knew what he should say, what the reasonable, sensible thing to say was. But he couldn't lie, either.

"No."

"Then we're okay," Jack said.

"No, we're not."

Jack clenched his jaw. "Why not?"

"It's still risky and wrong."

Jack's glare burned, like ice.

"Jack, I'm only saying... what if someone finds out? This is insane."

"I'm not planning on telling on anybody, are you?"

Daniel sighed, irritated. He shifted onto his back again and clasped his hands over his stomach. "They could find out even without being told."

"How? If we were being watched, they'd have already tossed me out by now."

Interesting that Jack's first thought was surveillance. Daniel frowned. "I didn't mean that. I meant, we could give ourselves away."

Jack settled next to him, shoulder-to-shoulder. "Okay. No more eating out in public. Or at least, not so often, and not at the same place all the time."

"It's not just that. There's SGC..."

Jack sat up and looked at him askance. "I hope you didn't think we were going to make out inside the mountain."

Daniel blinked at him. "I'm serious."

Jack raised one eyebrow. "So am I. Daniel, don't take this the wrong way, but when we're at work, I usually want to strangle you, not kiss you."

Daniel furrowed his brow, opened and shut his mouth. "Oh." He was quiet for a moment. "Is there a right way to take that statement?"

Jack slid down and kissed his jaw and settled against him, head resting on Daniel's shoulder. Daniel wrapped his arms around him. After a while he said, "You were exaggerating, weren't you?"

Jack's unshaven cheek scraped against Daniel's skin as he nodded. It felt nice, scratchy. Jack said, "My point was, we have other things on our minds. I don't think we're going to give anything away, do you?"

Daniel combed his fingers through Jack's hair. "We'll be careful," he said.

Jack kissed his shoulder. "Oh, very."

"And we won't rush things. We'll just take things as they come."

Jack kissed his neck. "As they come," he murmured.

Daniel tilted his head to expose more neck. "If it seems like someone suspects, we'll back off."

Jack's teeth grazed over his neck. "Completely." Daniel curled his fingers in Jack's hair. Jack kissed and softly bit and sucked. Daniel sighed and slow, warm shudders flowed through him.

"Strangle?" he murmured, fingertips rubbing Jack's hair.

"Daniel..." Jack murmured back, between kisses.

\-----

Sometimes, it was quiet, and it seemed like night, though who could tell? They were so deep inside the mountain, it could be two o'clock in the afternoon. Jack wandered down the corridor, hands in pockets, and didn't see anyone until he reached the elevator and passed a sergeant whose name he didn't know. The quiet times made up for all the chaos and imminent doom stuff.

When he reached Daniel's office, he stopped in the doorway and indulged himself a little. He watched Daniel, immersed in what he was doing: frowning at a blue stone he was turning over and over in his fingers and periodically checking a book that was lying open on the desk. He set the stone down and jotted something down in a notebook.

"Knock, knock," Jack said, coming inside.

Daniel didn't look up until he'd finished his notes. When he did, his eyes met Jack's, and it was okay. No avoidance, no hesitation. Just Daniel, back to being Daniel, which was perfectly, exactly okay.

Jack pulled a stool over and perched on it. Daniel said, "Nothing so far." He sat back and rubbed his eyes under his glasses.

"You'll find something."

Daniel gave a frustrated sigh and moved the book and stone aside. "And what if I don't?"

Jack shrugged. "Then you don't."

Daniel glanced at him. "I could go back to the planet. Arrange another survey."

Jack looked at him for a moment, then looked around the office. "Yeah, you could." He brought his gaze back to Daniel. "And how long would that take?"

Daniel closed his notebook and gestured helplessly. "For a complete survey? Years."

"Yeah."

Daniel picked up the stone again, turned it over in his fingers, and set it down. He looked up at Jack. "We don't have years."

"No."

"Hammond wouldn't agree to send a permanent archaeological team there? Nyan could oversee it."

Jack shrugged again. "With the trouble we have recruiting archaeologists? No."

Daniel picked up the stone again and frowned at it. Jack could tell when Daniel's attention and determination had refocused on it. Jack stood up, warmly patted Daniel's shoulder, got a distracted nod in reply, and left.

Sometimes, it was quiet, and it was okay.

(the end)


End file.
